Hurt
by Bluejay141519
Summary: A linstead short story as they struggle through life. Just some Linstead!Angst and onechicago!fam and...who am I kidding this just becomes fluffy with Halstead!whump.
1. Detach

_**Dedicated to the men and women who gave their lives to serve our country…and to the men and women who lost brothers and sisters serving our country.**_

* * *

 **Erin's P.O.V.**

The apartment is dark, the lights off except for a few in the kitchen, and even those are dimmed. Normally I like it like this because it makes the apartment feel homey and cozy. Not tonight.

No, this place will never feel warm again.

He tightens his arms around me and I press my face into his chest some more, bottom lip trembling violently as I try not to cry.

"Four weeks Er. Barely over a month."

I nod into his sweatshirt, eyes still clenched shut as I fist the black fabric.

"I'll talk to you as much as I can."

I nod again, this time accompanying it with a gasp as I shake from suppressed emotion.

"I can't tell you I'll come home Erin. I can't promise that."

 _And that's where it hurts._

The tears fall, burning a red hot trail down my cheeks that matches the pain in my heart.

It came in the form of a letter. It came as I walked through the door with his favorite beer, only to have him carefully guide me to the couch. It came, lying wide open on the coffee table in front of us, calling Jay back overseas to complete unfinished business. The official statement holds a four week deadline, but we both know it's bullshit. They can extend that as long as they want.

The feeling of shock never existed. But the end of my world came in those words.

It's not him being away that scares me. At least, it doesn't scare me the most. Yes, its terrifying that I won't be there, that I won't know what happens to him or if he's okay. That's plenty scary.

But that's not what makes my chest to tight to breath, it's not what makes my eyes burn.

It's not the concept of him dying either. We're both cops in one of the most dangerous cities in America. Every time he leaves my sight, and even when he's in it, I have to brave the thought of him not making it to the next day.

"Erin." His whisper is soft and caring and _damn it_ Jay, this is why I was afraid to love you. This right here. This feeling right now.

It's hard to describe really, because I knew this was a possibility, but there's no way to prepare for it. It's like being punched in the gut. You can't draw a breath, can't understand what's happened for the first few seconds after. A pretty accurate representation of right now. Because I can't breath, no, I'm sobbing to hard for that. I couldn't breath before either, when I read it and curled in a ball on top of him, refusing to let go because I knew when I did it would be the last time.

The air around me is not enough. It's not enough to sustain me, to keep me alive. I need him too. He has to be here, for me to live.

His arms hug me closer as I shake, mouth opening in a soundless scream.

I'm going to lose him and he won't even be dead.

" _Please."_ I sob, no higher than a whisper because I don't dare to break the quiet between us.

" _Please don't leave me."_ I cry, and something wet hits my hair to let me know he's crying too. The difference is, he's hurting because he thinks he's hurting me. But he's not. He isn't the one choosing to go back. And even if he was, if it was his decision to go back for a month...I couldn't blame him for that either. There is no anger in me right now. How could I hold any resemblance of rage against someone who wants to serve their country?

There's a hand under my chin, wiping away tears with a rough thumb. He tilts my head up, but my eyes are still closed and I am still crying and I know when I look at him it's all going to come spilling out.

"Erin."

No. I don't want to see his face. It's just going to hurt more when he's gone, but still here. When he's different but I'm still the same, this is what I'll remember.

"Linds. Come on baby, look at me."

It'll be this, these details, the ones important right now. Nothing hurts more than losing someone while they're still next to you.

I open my eyes, but bury my face in his shoulder, refusing to look at his face. The new patch of fabric absorbs my tears with eagerness.

"Erin, I'm gonna do everything I can to come back to you in one piece."

"I don't care about you coming back in 'one piece'!" I snarl, pushing off of him in a regrettable motion that sends me to the other end of the couch. I want to crawl back to him, close the distance between us and let him hold me till the sun comes up. But I can't. Because I need him to hear me.

"I just want you to come back!" He shifts, looking crushed.

"I can't promise you that Erin!"

" _No_. Jay, you aren't hearing me. I want _you_ to _come back."_ He blinks a few times. My hands are shaking and my heart feels heavy. See this is the part where he hates me.

"I don't want you to change Jay." I say softly, curling in on myself as my sobs turn to sniffles and less water falls down my face. The deepness of my pain doesn't change though, the fear and loss coming straight from my soul, pulsing out from somewhere deep inside me so my whole body aches with it.

"I don't want you to come back different." It's whispered, but the flash of anger across his face is anything quiet.

"What- so if I come back with PTSD you don't want to deal with that?!" He yells, standing up off the couch in his disbelief. I stand with him, terrified he'll leave before I can explain.

"No! No of course not- whatever happens over there we'll deal with it-"

"Then what the hell do you want from me, huh?! It's not like Chicago Erin, the things that happen over there are so much worse!" I'm sobbing again. My chest feels like its splitting in two, my heart being pulled into pieces by his words.

"I know, I know that Jay and that's not what I meant-" I plead, but he runs me over.

"Then what the hell do you mean I can't come back different?! What the fuck are you gonna do if I am, you gonna leave just like everyone else?!"

He's scared. Jay doesn't mean the hurtful things he's saying. I'm creating his worst fear right now, that I'll abandon him just because he's 'damaged'. Jay's not getting my point though. Hell, I'm not getting my point.

"I'm scared Jay! Okay, I'm fucking terrified! You understand that?!" I holler at him, tears dribbling down my face as my chest heaves for air.

"You think I'm _not?!_ " He roars. "You think I'm fucking _happy_ to lose _everything_ we have for some stupid recon mission?!"

" _I love you!"_ I scream. My knees give out and I sink to the floor, hugging my midsection as I rock back in forth, near hysterical in feeling.

"God _damn it Jay_ …"I gasp. "I fucking love you. And I will _always_ love you. No matter what you do. There will always be a part of me that loves you." My sobs slowly subside. I am to exhausted to feel anymore, but the tears continue to burn my face, branding me with my own selfishness. He says nothing, so I raise my eyes to his face, staring him directly in the eye for the first time tonight.

"I just need you to remember that I love you."

His eyes, the ones that change from blue to green to grey depending on the light, they are glassy and confused. He looks shocked, even as his chest moves rapidly, breathing heavy from yelling and from...well, from fear.

I drop my eyes back to the floor and cry.

It takes a little. A full minute or two and if I wasn't so wrapped up in my crazy thoughts, I probably could have heard the gears turning in his head. I probably would have noticed when he reached an epiphany too. As it is, I barely notice when he picks me up from the floor, carrying me as if I weigh nothing so he can curl around me on the couch.

He intertwines our fingers and whispers in my ear.

"I know why you're scared Linds. I'm scared too. I don't want to come back and not be me. I don't want to come back as someone else, someone you didn't fall in love with."

My breath catches in my throat, crocodile tears stuttering briefly as I start to relax with his words.

"I have the same fear. I don't want to come back and find that you are someone else, while I'm still right here."

With each syllable, he slowly pulls my broken heart back together. He's always been able to do that. Take away the hurt and show me strength.

"Just come back to me as you are." I whisper to him, breathing almost normal, tears all but gone.

"Promise me you won't lose who you are. Promise me you won't leave."

He squeezes my hand, tracing my ring finger, while he nuzzles my ear. He waits, our breathing synchronizing and slowing until-

" _I will stay who I am, so long as we have each other, so that we may grow together and fight for each other, as we have done and will do. This I promise to you, my love and life, Miss Erin Lindsay."_

I believe him.

* * *

 **Please review! I may do a follow up to this if people like it.**


	2. No Time For Caution

_**Dedicated to the people who waited for those who needed them.**_

* * *

 **Erin's P.O.V.**

He didn't come back a month later. No, I only had to deal with shitty satellite connection for two weeks. After that I could kiss the skype app goodbye, because he wasn't there to answer it.

Four days after he went dark I got a phone call and suddenly I was driving to Chicago International. No words were spoken between those waiting. The plane coming in didn't just carry my boyfriend, it carried others too. Husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters. There was little girl being corralled by their father, another pair of rambunctious boys were being held by two teenagers, brother and sister by their looks.

I could have cut the air with a butter knife and made a nice thick apprehension sandwich with extra tension sauce.

Telling the team was hard. The mission or whatever the hell he had to do, was classified, and extremely urgent. Which basically meant, that after our fight, we stayed up, holding each other until the sun peaked over the horizon. Then he packed his bag, drove down to the station with me, and gave five minutes of time he didn't have to give, to tell his family they may be looking at him for the last time. He didn't mind though. Said the plane wasn't leaving without him.

They didn't take it well, as was expected.

...

" _What are you talking about?" Ruzek stares at Jay with denial written all over his face. I look at Jay, trying to give him strength through my gaze. He takes a deep breath and tries again._

" _Effective immediately, I am temporarily reinstated. Apparently there's some unfinished business I need to attend to." I gage the room, my heart stone cold, shielding itself from still raw emotions. Alvin runs a hand through his hair, full of grief for things to come. I expected him of all people to understand what this means, and by the pain on his face, the way he looks at Jay with a mournful expression, I was right._

 _Atwater just looks like he's in shock, Antonio's glancing between Voight and I like he can't understand what Jay's saying and needs us to elaborate, all while Ruzek dances between fear and a utter rejection of what is true._

" _No. No that's not- they can't just-" The latter sputters, glancing around the room with the vain hope that someone will tell him otherwise. Halstead just nods._

" _They can. As of right now, I'll be back by November."_

" _As of right now?!" Adam exclaims, and I can see he's on the verge of panicking._

" _They can extend it if they believe I'm still needed." Jay says with a shrug. Voight looks at him, face placid and calm, nodding slightly. He glances at me for merely a second before pushing off Mouses old desk to walk to Jay. I see him tense for a second, what he's threatened by unknowable to me. Voight doesn't say anything at first, just holds out his hand._

 _Halstead eyes him for a moment, then takes it in a firm handshake. Voight looks him dead in the eye._

" _You're coming home." Is all he says. And I can see the way Jay swallows, like those words cut through his carefully erected walls to make all his fears come alive. They are careful words, ones that show that Hank cares about him. They are just as much for the unit as they are for Voight, as they are for Jay, as they are for me._

 _It's about all he can do to nod in confirmation._

...

The team all said their goodbyes, fast and jolted, none of them really comprehending what was happening. We drove to the airport in silence as he stared out the window, as if to permanently implant the images of his home in his mind.

Before he got out he kissed me. And asked me to wait as long as I could.

Then he got out of the passenger seat, and was gone.

Best part was, for a solid minute in a half I thought he meant for me to wait in the car, and I got really, really confused. Then, after my dumbness passed, I understood what he had done.

He gave me an out. If he had to stay in the military or if...if he didn't make it back, he was simply asking me to be patient. But he knew that everybody has their limits, so he added that part, that 'as long as you can.' So if I got to the point where I couldn't wait any longer...then he understood. He was telling me to live, even if he wasn't there.

Which is kind. But I know full well, that not having him is the same as not living. I can survive, yes, without him I can do that. It's been evident the last two and a half weeks he's been gone. I survived. But I wasn't living. It isn't enough to be breathing. I need him there to remind me why it's important.

There's an announcement over the speakers in our section, telling of the arrival of our anxiously awaited flight. The room doesn't descend into noise like I thought it would, instead the various friends and family stand and arrange themselves with a quiet murmur.

I wonder if some of them have done this before. Do they get the same fluttery feeling in their chest that makes a deep breath impossible to claim? Do they still feel the need to run away while simultaneously wanting to sprint onto the tarmac if only to reach the person they love?

"Erin!" Feet pound behind me, so I lean myself off the cylindrical column enough to turn towards my name. Will comes jogging up, relief evident in his posture.

"I didn't miss him?" He puffs, breathing heavy.

"Did you sprint all the way from your car?" I sass, smirking as he nods. My gaze drifts past him and there's Voight, walking dignified through the mass of people, leading the rest of Intelligence with the exception of Al who walks beside him.

"You finish the case?" I ask, not wanting a rapist to go free just because Ruzek wanted to get to the airport.

"Bastard just about confessed. We got what we need." I nod, readjusting my arms around my chest, hugging myself tighter as the boys greet Will.

The low murmur of the waiting steadily rises to a more normal level, soft conversations overlapping each other as people prep one another to receive the ones they've been away from for so long.

Then suddenly, almost as if it was rehearsed, the room hushes.

The father puts down his daughter. The two teens help their boys hold a homemade sign that spells out a welcome message to mom and dad. Camera's are made ready, tissues prepared. I stand straighter and everyone holds their breath.

The first one to emerge is a girl, no taller than five feet. Her dark hair is pulled into a tight bun, the shade of her hair making the green fatigues she wears darker. A black duffel is strung over her shoulder, the same each person will have as they walk out of the tunnel. Her eyes scan the crowd for a moment, her feet stopping for a second. For the first time in a while she isn't looking for an enemy. She's looking for a loved one.

You can tell the moment she spots them, because an enormous grin appears on her face, and her feet start moving at a much faster pace through the crowd. The bag is dropped ten feet in front of another girl with blond hair and pale skin who immediately bursts into tears. The soldier reaches out and they embrace in the tightest of hugs.

And so it goes. The families don't move, but the men and women walking out of the tube search for them. The room fills with people, cries of elation and joy rising above the commotion. I peer around the broad shoulders and crew cuts, desperate to keep an eye on the line coming out. I don't feel the team behind me, but they are surely tense with anticipation.

Four weeks didn't seem like a long time until we hit the second day of him not being there.

Confusion starts to creep over me as the flight attendant closes the doors, signalling that no more people are left on the plane. But that...that doesn't make sense, he said he'd be here, he said he was coming home he-

"Erin."

I gasp at my name, and the grin that spreads across my face rivals that of the first girl. One hand presses to my face as I turn on a heel, trying to hide the giddiness that overwhelms me at his voice. It hits me how much I've missed that warmth in my name, that _love._

It hits, that fear of losing him abated, because he's here, in person, he's right here…

...on his knees?

Well on one knee.

Oh.

 _Oh._

My other hand rises instantly, slapping over the one covering my mouth as I force my lips to not allow the scream to be released. The room has gone hushed once more.

There's a bruise on the bottom of his jaw, a small scratch on his cheek and deeper laceration that fades into his hair line that comes about an inch away from his eye.

 _His eyes_.

God I've missed those. The way they sparkle with a mischief that betrays his age, the seriousness they can hold, and the genuine love that they speak. He's managing to perform all three right now.

Jay's grinning like a loon, watching me as I flit from his appearance to the ring in his hands. The simple silver band, three imbedded stones glisten on each side of perfectly set square diamond.

" _Simple. Elegant. Beautiful. Just like you."_ His voice sounds in my head with an explanation for the choice, echoing from a month before he left. What a riot it must've been for him, knowing I had no clue he was alluding to a ring.

A ring. Jesus christ this is actually happening. He's actually asking me to marry him.

"So when I first got this I had a big long speech planned out…" He starts. I manage to exist during it and that's about all. "...but then after that night...well I figured we'd said everything we needed to say to each other."

A hysterical bubble of laughter shakes my diaphragm, although it sounds more like a sob to my ears.

"So, uh…" He stammers for a couple seconds, letting me know he's a million times more nervous than I am. Of course he is. He doesn't know I'll say yes.

"Erin Lindsay...will you marry me?"

There's tears running down my face. My heart feels so big I think it might explode from just a general overload of happiness and joy. There is a good chance that when I takes my hands away from my mouth I'll throw up.

But the decision is the easiest I've ever made in my life. So I nod quickly, before I give him a heart attack. I nod, then my hands fall from my mouth and I manage a choked " _Yes."_ He takes my right hand, slips on the ring, metal cool and soft against my skin.

Then he stands up and kisses me.

A loud whoop decimates the silence and the room erupts in applause, cheers and tears coming from all directions. It's not just the families around us, and we aren't just clapping because I got hitched. No, we're celebrating love. I'm whispering agreement over and over again, the tears making me mildly annoyed because they just won't stop flowing, even as he hugs me. Murmuring things in my ear, things about him and us and everyone, I nod to each thing he says, clutching the back of his uniform for dear life and praying this isn't a dream.

And then we separate and my tear ducts stop being traitors. I'm wiping my eyes, feeling better than I have a _long_ _time_ when I turn away from Jay.

A loud cheer sounds, scaring the shit out of me and my hands raise once more to cover my eyes in mock horror. I drop them immediately though, because I'm gonna start crying again.

"When did you get here?!" I screech, outraged at my oblivious nature. Actually more like generally overwhelmed with shock.

Because there standing in front of me is my family. Extended and all.

Gabriela Dawson standing next to her brother, Casey on her other side, Severide next to him. The chief stands next to Miss Goodwin who's next to Voight. The rest of fifty one fills behind them, Rhodes, Choi, Nat and April all crowded behind Will who stands next to Charles. Ruzek and Atwater are shoulder to shoulder between them, Burgess and Tay claiming the outside of the crowd with Maggie and Al.

They're all here. Everyone who's helped me come this far in life, everyone who's been there for me. They all snuck in to be here. For me.

Bastards, they're gonna make me cry again.

Jay walks forward with me, and the crowd converges on us. Voight reaches me first, a long hug full of fatherly love and pride. He leans back, holding my elbows.

"How you doin kid?" The giddy smile comes back and my heart feels swollen with joy.

"I'm getting married." I breath. He graces me with a rare smile.

"Yeah you are." I exhale harshly.

"I'm getting _married_." Hank actually _laughs_ at my response. The bubble of emotion pops inside my chest, fireworks exploding outwards to fill me with happiness.

This is okay. This is more than okay. This is everything I could have wanted, coming from everything I didn't.

"I'm so proud of you Erin." And I have to smile wider. Because for once, I'm proud of me too.

* * *

 **Review! I'll probably do a part three, but if I get enough reviews, I'll add a little bonus crack scene. *hint hint...it would involve a certain SVU team***


	3. Where We're Going

_**Dedicated to those who had to come home alone.**_

* * *

 **Erin's P.O.V.**

The ceremony was short. Shorter than most. It took us a solid two minutes to plan it, the venue was chosen easily, the location for reception wasn't even an a question to be answered. We had a surprisingly calm conversation over colors and table centers, and the meals were really just our individual preferences. He enjoys chicken, I'm a hound for steak. He likes Navy blue, I liked the silver, white and black to go with it.

Where the chips went down however, was the cake flavor.

Jay has an affinity for chocolate with vanilla frosting. I have an affinity for vanilla with chocolate frosting. The problem? We both hate marble, as well as each other's preference. This lead to multiple cake testings, and cake arguments, and cake being thrown, and cake in each others faces and some really interesting 'adult activities'.

Needles to say, we found that it was the frosting combinations we didn't like, so while we still had a chocolate tier and a vanilla tier, the chocolate had oreo frosting, the vanilla had a sort of coffee mocha. The cake was white fondant with a navy blue drape of sorts that moved elegantly down from the top and had the direct appearance of satin. It was topped with a blossom of black, silver and white roses.

I honestly ate so much of it, it's a miracle there's was any left for the guests.

The chief's friend married us at firehouse fifty one, and the reception was loud and crazy and way to big to fit into Molly's, but we shoved them in there anyways. Besides, we both had our crazy night out two days before the wedding.

Will conferred with Ruzek who conferred Severide who conferred with _me_ to make sure all the shit they planned for Jay was okay. Of course, I had to say yes, because what Burgess and Gabby did with me and my girls was….well Jay doesn't have to be nervous about me getting mad at him.

Our honeymoon was pretty simple. Jay always wanted to take me to that damn cabin (which was way nicer than I thought it would of been), and I always wanted to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. So the day after (because we were to exhausted to take showers, never mind leave right then and there) we packed the car, and drove up to wisconsin for a week. Which was were it must've happened.

Where a lot of things happened, actually.

I am going to forever tease him about holding out on me in the bedroom, because it was the most phenomenal joining of my life. It was the greatest moments of my relation with him, second only to when he slipped that ring on my finger.

That cabin's also where I kept my promise.

It didn't change him like I thought it might. No, I understand better now. It could have. But I promised him I wouldn't let him slip, so long as he tried as hard as he could to stay here as well. If his screams scared the shit out of me every night I heard them, then so be it. And if I had to lose sleep so he could rest peacefully, then I'd do that too.

And if one night I found him staring blankly at the broken mirror while he unknowingly dragged a piece of glass down his arm, then I would get him help.

I promised not to tell anyone, not just to protect him, but to make him work through it, to make him tell the people who mattered, on his own time. It wasn't I who made the decision to call Charles, and it wasn't I who suggested he made the visits weekly. All I did, was promise to be there for him, to be whatever he needed.

We're working on it. Slowly, and rather unsteadily, but then that's the only way these things go.

It was in Cleveland, looking at the Pink Floyd exhibit that the thought hit me. I pushed it out of my mind, marking it as ridiculous and stupid.

A month later and I can no longer call my period 'late'. Hence why I'm staring at the white plastic in my hand, locked in my bathroom. I gently set it down next to the three others, forcing a breath out of my chest. Someone softly knocks at the door. I know it's him, even before he calls my name, voice gentle.

"Erin babe, please let me in." He's worried. Of course he's worried. I've been in here for over two hours. I'm actually genuinely surprised he hasn't broken the door down.

"Linds...please just tell me you're okay." Well. If the fear in his tone is anything, he's probably stretching his leg right now, ready for perfectly placed kick that'll take the wood off it's hinges.

I sniff, feeling cold as I unlock the door. He opens it immediately and I back up, tucking one hand into the my opposite elbow, that hand rising to press against my mouth. I won't cry. I won't. I absolutely refuse.

But what if he isn't ready for this? I know I'm sure as hell not ready. For a long time I never even wanted kids. Jay's struggling right now, trying so hard to put those bad memories and thoughts away, put them back where he had them, back where he was at peace with them. Now…

What if he doesn't want this?

His eyes swing from my face to the sink and I get the feeling he was talking to me. He stares at them for a second, frozen, eyes wide, chest still as he seems to hold his breath. Then he picks on up, staring at the little plus sign. The same little blue lines on all the tests.

I can only stare, heart frozen in place. I can't even think right now, never mind predict his reaction.

Okay so maybe I could. Or at least I expected something else. I certainly didn't see him dropping the test and picking me up in a hug. I didn't see him laughing like a maniac, or kissing me again and again while telling me he loves me.

But he does. He's smiling and shaking with emotion when he finally puts me down, but he is _happy._ Really, really _happy._

Of course, I should be happy with him.

And of course, I am not.

The smile slowly drops from his face and he looks at me concerned, hands on my shoulders.

"Er' what's wrong?" A tear flows from my eye. I tremble.

"What...what if…" I gasp, trying to stem the intense emotions running through me. He doesn't coddle me, doesn't sit me down and try to wrap me in bubble wrap. No. He just looks me in the eyes and kisses my forehead gently.

"Erin Lindsay, you are going to be a great mom. You won't be anything like Bunny, just like I won't be anything like my dad. We've already changed more than they ever will, so how could we possibly be them?" He murmurs into my hair, hugging me close once more. This time I wrap my arms around him, trembling with pent up tears. The fear in my chest is nearly as bad as when he was leaving.

"I don't want to hurt them." I whisper into his chest. Jay scoffs, then abruptly pulls me away from his chest.

"Erin." He looks stern, staring at me in disbelief, while I can only gaze in expectancy. "Are you telling me you won't love this child?"

"Of course not!" I spit, protectiveness ripping its way through my psyche. "How could you say that?!"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Oh." I mutter, put out. I hate it when he's right.

"That's what I thought." I take a deep breath, the fear turning into something more like nervousness. Something I can manage. Then that dopey grin spreads across his face, and just like that he chases away my misgivings, forcing them from me to make room for excitement.

"I'm pregnant." I breath. He smiles wider, if possible, and nods.

"We're pregnant." The realization hits us at the same time and he just...he…

I roll my eyes and he sprints out of the bathroom with an excited yell.

"At least let me call Hank first!" I call, smirking as he runs past the doorway again laughing maniacally. I breath out, putting a hand on my still normal belly and looking down at it.

"What are we gonna do with him?"

…

 **Olivia's P.O.V.**

"Who was that?" Amero inquires, guestering to the cell phone I'm staying in my pocket. Rollins sits next him, nursing a martini while Fin swirls around a scotch on the opposite side of the table. I can't help the smile on my face as I take my seat, swallowing a gulp of my beer.

"Sometimes it's easy to forget there's good in the world." I tease. Rollins tilts her head.

"What does that mean?"

"You remember Halstead and Lindsay?" Everyone nods.

"Well that was Sergeant Voight…." I pause for suspense, watching as they brace themselves for bad news despite my smile.

"...they got married."

" _What?!"_ Amaro and Rollins yell it at the same time, but Fin just starts laughing.

"What did I say?! What did I say?!" He jabs at Nick, who would look less shocked if I said the dead were rising.

" _And…"_ I add. "They're having a _baby._ " Grinning at the shouts of denial and exclamation around me. Tutuola is yelling about he called it, Rollins looks dead shocked and Amaro is just generally freaking out. Ironically though, it's Amanda that gets me to laugh.

"How dare they not invite us?!"

"To what? The wedding or the reception." She scoffs.

"Oh please! The bachelorette party."

* * *

 **Alright c'mon now- three chapters in three days. Coming from the author who can't seem to update any one story twice in the same month, this should be a national holiday or something.**

 **But it was cute no?**

 **And HEYYY lets see if we can make thirty reviews :D**


	4. Mountains

_**Dedicated to all the mothers who had to have the talk. And to all the fathers who had to choose.**_

* * *

 **Erin's P.O.V.**

"What do you mean he's _unavailable?!"_ I hiss, knuckles white on the railing as another contraction ripples through me. The orderly looks terrified. Good.

"I'm delivering his fucking baby he can get his ass down here!" The girl scampers away, bumping into Nat as she rushes through the door. I flop back onto the bed as the contraction vanishes.

"Breath Erin." I glare at her.

"As if I would be lucky enough to stop." She smiles, running an instrument across my forehead.

"Trust me, I remember what it was like." She turns to Maggie. "Temperatures normal, oxygen is steady."

"You comfortable?"

"About as comfortable as I'm gonna get- Ah!" Maggie grabs my hand tight, not making a sound as I squeeze the life out of her appendage. Natalie moves to my legs.

See I choose Maggie as my 'birthing buddy' because Nat said she was the best, and I literally _forced_ Manning to be my doctor because she's given birth before and she knows what it's like and really if there was anyone else in here I'd be biting their head off.

Groaning I relax once more. She gently lifts the blanket.

"Alright Erin, you're almost dilated. A few more minutes and we should be there. The baby's heart rate is normal, your pressure and temp are all fine, and you're both getting enough oxygen. Everythings looks great." I nod, puffing as I struggle to keep the pain in check.

"Maggie-" I gasp. Why do they give you drugs if they aren't going to do anything for the pain? "-find him. Please." She looks at me for a long moment, then nods, standing and pushing her way through the throng of nurses to pop her head outside. I see Will's form jog up to her, blurry through the shaded windows. There's some exchange, then she slips her way back to my side.

"Will's gonna find him honey, I promise." I swallow and nod, more desperate than ever.

* * *

 **Antonio's P.O.V.**

"Hank!"

"You got him?" Halstead groans as I push harder at the wound in his side.

"I think there's internal bleeding- and the way he rolled- I- I don't…" The older man drops to next to me, ready to help when a loud popping noise echoes in the alley way. I curse, but Voight's already helping me sit him up, and Jay isn't as out of it as he should be.

"Gotta get t' h'spit'l." He slurs, one arm around my shoulders as he attempts to walk. Hank moves ahead of us, gun raised to cover our retreat.

"I know, I know kid. We're tryin'." We've reached the end, harsh daylight blinding us both for a few seconds as we step out of the shadows. Blinking away spots I see Ruzek and Atwater sprinting down the block, guns ready.

"No." Jay shakes his head, sucking in a ragged breath. "Rin. Nurse called… 'avin contractions." I stare at him, oblivious to our arrival at the car, the one we conveniently parked a few blocks away from our intended location of breach.

"Dawson move!" Shaking my head I open the door, shoving Jay into the back seat. Al rushes past me, heading for the drivers seat.

"What about-"

"Don't worry about us just get him out of here!"

"Voight!" I scream, he jerks his head towards me, only half paying attention as bullets fly. More squad cars come screeching to a halt near us, officers getting out, guns blazing.

"Erin's in labor!" Hank looks at me, then the car, and I can see the decision made, hard on his face.

"Get him there Dawson, whatever it takes!"

* * *

 **Will's P.O.V.**

"What do you mean?!"

"The nurses couldn't get ahold of Jay and I don't think Erin will push if he's not here." I nod, resolve already made.

"I'll find him."

"Go." Maggie disappears back into the room and I immediately whip out my cell phone, dialing Mouse.

" _What's up man?"_

"Get me Dawson." There's a dial tone, then the call's switched over to a scene just as dire. I listen, heart dropping to my feet the more he talks.

"Okay. Okay I'll be ready. Antonio listen-"

" _I know. I don't think he can hang on that long though."_ Growling I end the call, walking towards the ED emergency reception area. Turning the corner I spy Conner talking to a nurse.

"Rhodes!"

"Hey!" We both turn our heads as the doors whoosh open, a nurse yelling at Jay as he dashing through them, blood covering a good portion of his face, Antonio and Alvin running in after him.

"Halstead!" Olinski yells as I move to stop Jay. Unfortunately he heads towards the hallway I just came down, correctly assuming it's where Erin was.

"Damn it Jay you need to get-"

"Will I am not missing the birth of my child for some stitches!" He pushes past me, stumbling and leaving a bloody trail on his way to Erin's room.

* * *

 **Erin's P.O.V.**

"I...am not...having this baby...without him!"

"Erin if you don't push _right now_ you are going to have to have a C-section and it will jeopardize the health of the baby!" Natalie's words light up one of my greatest fears, that my child might not be healthy when born but I can't do this without-

"Jay!" I cry out as another contraction ripples through me. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth against the pain.

"Erin!" Gasping my eyes snap open and instantly take in his form. A sob chokes its way out of me as my husband sprints to my bedside. Manning is yelling something, the room erupting in chaos with Will scrambling past her to enter but don't hear or see any of it. All I can process is that he's here, he's right here, and I've never been more in love with him than right now.

" _I'm here."_ he whispers and I can hear him like the world was silent.

And then everything rushes back at once and I realize I still have a baby to deliver.

"Erin you need to push NOW!" Jays have entwined with mine and then I'm leaning forward, screaming as I put all my energy into tensing my muscles. Tears pop from my eyes at the pressure but through the blurriness I can see relief pass through my doctor's face as I finally do as she asks.

"That's good Erin, alright do it again." I swear I'm going to break Halsteads hand I squeeze it so hard but god damn it it _hurts_.

"Erin you're almost there just one more, give you all got, come on. Ready?" I nod vigorously, panting and sweating and just an overall mess but I want this over with. I want to hold my kid.

"Okay, on 'three'." She counts down, each number becoming a huge breathe from me and then I'm screaming as loud as my voice can go, putting every last bit of strength into this task.

Everything stills for a moment then the pain subsides, allowing me to breathe. I flop back into the bed, letting Jay whisper comforting praise in my ear and then a tiny, high pitched cry fills the room.

"It's a girl!" Gasping, the tears in my ears turning to joy, I look over to see a nurse cleaning a tiny body before handing if to Nat to swaddle it in the softest of blankets. She smiles at me.

"Would you like to meet your daughter?" Without waiting for the inevitable answer, she walks over carefully handing me the bundle which I reach for, a sobbing laugh erupting from me before I can do anything.

"Oh my god!" I whisper out, staring at the tiny face. Two dark blue crystal eyes peek out from the blankets, a soft happy gurgle instantly making my heart swell with love and joy. Nestling her close to me, I feel Jay shuffle closer on the edge of the bed.

"She's beautiful." He whispers as I look at him. His eyes seem as heavy as our newborns, both struggling to stay open.

"Jay?" I whisper, a spark of worry over shadowing my joyful moment.

"I'm so proud of you Erin." He leans forward, placing his forehead on mine for a moment before planting a kiss there and leaning back.

Why is it only now I'm noticing how white he is, how his lips had a blueish tint to them. How his breath is coming in strangled gasps.

"I love you...both...so much. Don't...forget that...okay?"

 _Why does it sound like he's saying goodbye?_

Suddenly his eyes close, head drooping forward while his whole body simultaneously relaxes.

"Jay!" I yell out, hand reaching for him but at the same time remaining still save the bundle in my arms be moved. I settle on repeatedly crying his name, even as Will and Rhodes (when did he get here?) gently roll Jay off my bedside, leaving a bloodstain on the sheet where he lay. I'm almost screaming his name as they grab his gear to lift him onto a bed, yelling things about blood loss and pressures and heart rate but all I can focus on is Jay's face.

It looks like he's sleeping, a deep, calm sleep that he's needed for a while but was never able to get until now. And the more I look at it the more I convince myself that he's gone, he's dying and he's not coming back and I'm going to have to explain to my little girl why she grew up without a father.

And then

Then he's gone. Just like that. Taken from the room in a cloud of medical professionals. Leaving me alone to sob and wonder how I can live without him.

* * *

 **Heheheh. I just couldn't resist. I ignored homework for this so y'all should be quite happa. And literally three more reviews. I think we can manage it.**


	5. Flying Drone

_**Dedicated to everyone who made the wrong choice, and to the pain felt when they lost someone because of it.**_

* * *

 **Antonio's P.O.V.**

The room is dim, soft yellow light cast from a lamp in the corner of the room. She's laying on her back, but she's not sleeping. No, her body is too tense for that. Which is how I know she heard my knock.

"Erin." I call, letting the hallway light spill into the room, keeping the door open incase a projectile is launched my way.

"Unless you are a nurse holding my child or a doctor with news on my husband, get the fuck out of my room." I flinch, hurt by her harsh tone, but fully aware that she has the reason to be angry. And worried. And terrified really. I'm also quite aware that she has every reason to direct this pain towards me.

"Linds I'm sorry." She lifts an eyelid, staring at me.

"Glad you got that of your conscious?!" She seethes. I don't respond, which is a good enough answer for her.

"Great! Now get out."

"I just thought you'd want to know what happened."

She swallows, and it looks painful. Her answer is unexpected, but wanted.

"Fine. Close the door." There's a soft click and I slip across the room, sitting in the chair next to the lamp, not two feet from her bed. It's the most awkwardly sentimental thing of my life, because this is the chair that belongs to the father, it's the same position I held when my babies were born. Her hand fiddles with the small remote control a nurse must've gifted her, and she's forced to guess a little before finding the right button and the head of the bed rises some.

Sighing at the more comfortable position, she opens her eyes, glaring at the ceiling. When I say nothing, those eyes snap my eyes to me.

"Talk." I have the audacity to try a small smirk. She clearly hasn't lost her tact.

"How you doin?" An eyebrow is raised.

"I just gave birth to another human being, my muscles are like limp rubber bands, my back is constantly aching, I have pain in limbs that shouldn't even hurt, and a low agony that simmers in a place you don't even want me to mention is only being kept in check by the remnants of a nerve blocker. I can't name my child yet because my husband is currently fighting for his life on a steel table, all because _you_ couldn't keep him out of trouble for two fucking minutes. Gee dawson- how do you _think_ I'm doing?!"

It's something of a snarl and a hiss with venom injected into her cutting tone. A satisfactory method if her intentions are to punish me, as the small smile is just about slapped from my face with her words, my mind turning serious once more to match my melancholy demeanor.

Because it was my fault wasn't it? It was all our faults, the senior detectives, who knew he was concussed, then shot, and still let him run around in the war zone that is The Yards right now? Oh we could have stopped him, there's no doubt about in my mind. We didn't have to let him go on that chase. But we did. And look where that got us.

"I...I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No. Voight probably asked you to see how I was doing, so now you have an answer. You came in here to tell me what happened two hours ago, and you're going to do that then leave. I don't need your sympathy or your pity, just your explanation. Start. _Now_."

It's my turn to swallow painfully. To brace myself.

"We were working on this murder case and got an address for this guy we liked; some former player for the Disciples. We breached, he ran out the back. The, uh... _complicating_ factor is that he stepped onto another gang's territory. So they found him the same time we did… only they came with the motive of killing him." I stop, taking a breath as the air seems to grow increasingly thick, stifling and uncomfortable.

"I was with Voight, Jay was with Al in the back and Ruzek and Atwater were on opposite sides of the house. So we breach, and this guy comes out swinging…"

...

" _Sanchez! Hey, he's going out the back!"_

" _All patrols suspect fleeing north of Ashton on foot, male, forties, latino, dark hoody." My hand moves from my shoulder to Jay's back, gently reassuring him I'm there. And reminding myself that he's still breathing. A soft moan emanates from the man as he starts to come to, blood seeping out of a cut on the side of his face. A lamp will do that to skin if enough force is applied._

" _Easy, easy Jay." I murmur, unable to do much but keep a steadying hand on him as he slowly shifts, the house having not yet been cleared, Al and Voight searching upstairs while I hold my gun, ready to defend my fallen teammate and I._

 _Two 'clear's are called out from upstairs and not a minute passes before the two older men are rushing down the stairs._

" _How is he?" Voight growls, Alvin crouching down next to me while I holster my weapon._

" _I think he's waking up." I reply, gripping Jay's jacket as he flinches away from Olinski's hands, which had been gently probing the bloody gash on his head._

" _Kid." He calls softly, squeezing the shoulder nearest to the wall. "C'mon Jay, open those eyes."_

 _A muffled 'no' is the response, easing the tension of the room. Voight steps back to radio his two detectives chasing our perp while O and I shift Jay into a sitting position. He groans at the movement, wincing as he tries to pat the blood from his eye._

" _Erin'll kill me." He grouches._

" _Kill_ you _?!_ _What do ya think she'll do to_ me _?! Or us for that matter?_ " _Jay just smiles, half his face dark red with blood._

" _We can all have matching tombstones: 'Here lie the men of intelligence, who made the mistake of aggravating an extremely pregnant Erin Lindsay.'" Alvin grips Jays hand and we stand, all three of the unharmed guys jumping forward when Halstead stumbles, almost returning to the ground. He would have too, if not for Al's grip on his arm._

" _I'm okay." He mumbles, head rolling slightly in an action that implies he's anything but. I turn to Voight._

" _Do you want to drive him to the hospital or do you want to tell Erin?" I know whatever he says, the other option will be equally taxing. Jay gets_ very _loopy when he's hurt. Voight considers it for a moment._

" _Think I should wear a bulletproof vest? Erin definitely still has her gun."_

" _That would be wise." I deapan._

 _A wizing sound is the only warning, then a small projectile shatters the window not three feet behind Hank. More gunshots sound, making adrenaline flow once more in our bodies. Guns are drawn and we all rush out the door attached to the kitchen, which is where Sanchez had been hiding when he clocked Jay._

 _A call is sounding for backup over the radio, sounding a street opposite our direction, so we take a sharp right down an alley, and it's here I realize Halstead is with us as we sprint to the street. Better yet, he's pulling ahead as we sprint around another corner, watching as a truck hauls down the street, bullets flying from a pistol held by a guy in the back. We all duck to the side when the fire is drawn to us, but it's really not helpful, because there's nothing but brick wall to greet us._

 _The lack of cover is evident as bullets ping on the pavement, one imbedding itself an inch from my head. Another grazes Al's arm, and of course, because it's Jay and he was only a few feet ahead of us and he just attracts danger, a bullet finds him, ripping through his side, right below the vest._

 _He drops with a grunt and a spritz of blood, hitting one knee and raising his gun, firing a single shot the second before the truck clears our range. Theres the sound of tires squealing and a crunch of metal, indicating his aim was spot on. Unfortunately, Jay doesn't take the victory. No, he has to stand and immediately sprint towards the end of the alley, headless of our yells for him to stop._

 _Which meant we had to follow him, because the idiot is about to get himself killed. However, we don't get greeted with the site of his body when we round the corner. Instead we see two men jumping from the crashed truck, disappearing into another alley._

 _Al takes off after them at his sergeant's command, patrol cars screeching as they turn after him. Ruzek and Atwater are nowhere to be seen, and we're forced to move slower down the block, having to check angles for a hostile. Members of the opposite gang are now here apparently, and the scene is officially a hot zone.._

 _This only means that we turn the corner of the next alley in time to see a black suburban slam into Mr. Sanchez's body._

 _You know._

 _The Anton Sanchez in the process of being cuffed by Jay._

 _The front of the car makes full contact with the perps body, forcing him into Jay, who flies backwards and slides across the pavement for a split second before his something catches and he rolls, slamming into a dumpster._

 _I curse, sprinting forward without caution, sliding to my knees next to Halstead, who is somehow still conscious. At least I don't have to check for a pulse._

 _A bullet or seven is put through the driver's chest as he tries to get out of the car, and his semi-auto clatters to the ground covered in blood. Hank informs me off the lack of vital signs from our suspect and more shots are heard echoing close to us._

 _This just became an all out gang war, and we're caught in the middle of it._

 _The radio crackles with the yells of multiple police officers, an ambo is requested, but I know they won't come in here till the scene is declared to be inactive. I don't know what's taking Voight so long, but Halstead's bleeding and my hands automatically focus on the gunshot wound soaking his hoody with blood. I roll him onto his back, calling for Voight._

 _..._

"We got him into a car and then...well you know the rest." Erin's hands are shaking, tears are running down her face but she hasn't made a sound, her only voluntary action being her fingers picking at the fuzzy blanket across her midsection.

I stare at her, a silent plea for her to talk. To say something, _anything-_

"Lindsay-"

"Get out." She whispers, sniffing quietly and brushing away tears from the sides of her face. I don't argue, but her words pierce my heart, amplifying my guilt with her blame. I'm at the door, one foot through it when her voice calls me.

My head swings to her form, eyes watching as she seems to make up her mind about something. Finally she meets my gaze, saying only two, genuine words.

"Thank you."

* * *

 **Aye, but it's up in the same month right? Points for that?**

 **Reviews for that…;D**


	6. STAY

_**Dedicated to those who have lost a life before it even began.**_

* * *

 **Erin's P.O.V.**

"Miss Lindsay?"

"Halstead. And its Mrs." I correct absently, more focused on nursing little Maddie K. My voice is lowered, but not for the feeding child in my arms. My eyes flick over to the bed next to me, watching carefully as Jay shifts in his sleep, mumbling little pieces of nothing. I shoot a glare at the nurse after he settles. She ducks her head in apology, walking quietly over to my bedside just as Maddie finishes.

"Is it alright if I check on her? Nothing to worry about, just want to make sure everything's okay." Suspicion flits through me, but I carefully hand over the little bundle. She lets out a happy gurgle and shakes a tiny fist at the nurse.

"Are you taking her to Natalie?" I whisper. She nods.

"I'll burp her for you as well." She adds with a smile, rocking the child slightly as she exits the room. The door shuts softly without a hint that she might start to cry. Well, thank god for that.

Madison Kaylie Halstead, born nine pounds ten ounces, got her name from the sleeping man next to me just before he succumbed to exhaustion not fifteen minutes after he woke up. Why call her Madison Kaylie? Because (and I quote) "that way I can call her 'special k' and get away with it".

I kept in mind that he was sky high on painkillers, but I figured even when he was coherent the reasoning would stay the same. Besides, I liked the name. Which I'm sure had nothing to do with the fact that I was stretched to my limit emotionally, or that I just about threatened to drop kick a nurse into the next century unless they wheeled my recovering husband straight to me.

A concussion, a bullet through the abdomen which hit a whole lot of something and caused a lot of bleeding to add to the four broken ribs that were pressing on his lung and the internal bleeding and the shattered wrist and wrenched shoulder and the fifteen thousand scraps and bruises that comes when you get forcibly thrown across pavement by a car.

He is alive though. And so incredibly ridiculous when on morphine. Anybody who thinks I'm exaggerating can bite me. Yesterday he had an entire conversation with the smiley face one of my 'congratulations' balloons.

That doesn't mean he's always riding on cloud nine. He intentionally stayed off of the morphine for something like four hours so that way he'd be coherent enough to hold our baby.

As much as I'd like to blame the post pregnancy hormones for my tears, I can't really, because anyone who's seen a father hold his child for the first time can attest to how moving it is.

The little bundle had cooed with joy upon first contact as Jay struggled between pain and breath taking affection. Then the little thing wrapped a hand around her daddy's finger and Jay's eyes _lit up._ They were glassy but tears never fell. Instead he only rocked her slowly, whispering his own special words to her. I looked on, watching him fall in love all over again.

The moment was over all too soon, because Will came strutting in with a look of annoyed worry that was hidden only for a moment by surprise and then pride at the scene. Both of which disappeared as he stalked towards Jay's bed, muttering a string of curses to low for the audible ear.

Which was a smart choice. I would've killed him for swearing around my kid.

Little Maddie seemed a bit disappointed at being handed off so soon, but Will was quietly chewing out his brother about the whole stunt while he pushed a needle into his I.V. She quieted as soon as she realized she was back with me and Jay was out in seconds.

We went for a walk after that, my aching back and legs and everything else needing a stretch. Carting along my I.V. we toured the maternity ward. My little girl earned a plethora of reactions, from smiles, to jealousy, to an hour long conversation with an very pregnant and very nervous mother in the first stages of labor.

It was good though. My legs felt better after the walk and Maddie thoroughly enjoyed all the attention. Jay was sleeping rather peacefully when I got back and the nurses weren't going to make their rounds for another hour (or so I thought, but the nurse came and got Maddie was a half hour early).

Still. Gave me some time to think.

I wanted this. I knew that even as I denied ever getting married, ever having children. Of course I was seven when I first made that oath, and it was in the middle of watching my mother get beaten by another one her boyfriends. I wanted kids, but I didn't want to be Bunny. Growing up, all I knew was fear and anger and drugs. I didn't know what a loving family was supposed to be like. But even when I saw it with Camille and Voight, I kept my promise, kept telling myself I never wanted them. I became a cop and watched the parents of dead children scream and cry and break in two as their child was taken from them. Saw Camille fade away, felt the anguish and pain that went with losing a parent. Saw Justin spiral, saw Voight become harder, colder, as he struggled to control him.

Felt it as the last blood relation that Voight had still living was taken away from him. The grief of losing a child, of a child losing a parent, is often portrayed as unbearable. I never thought I'd be able to do it.

Then I met one stubborn ass man, who waltzed into my life and refused to take no for an answer, despite how badly I treated him at times. I remember before we were married, when we just moved in together, and there would be nights where I would lay awake staring at the ceiling. Thinking.

I could have kids with him. It's a weird thing to think, but back then it was a last resort scenario. I was playing the 'what if' game, and I knew that if I ever died, he is the only person I would want to be there for my child. The only person I would trust.

Because my death would swallow Hank. But Jay. Jay is so damn selfless, that he would bury that grief, and he would live, so that our son or daughter could to.

It wouldn't be ideal. It would take a long time for Jay to move on too, if ever. Maybe he would stay the same, and live as half person. Maybe he wouldn't.

Not quite the best thing to think about when you find out you're pregnant, but the same thoughts had popped into my then too. Helped me freak out less when the implications really hit.

I can look at my child though, and let every nervous mother and father out there know that the risk is worth the reward. The grief of loss is immeasurable unless compared to the amount of love you will feel for your child.

Maddison Kaylie Halstead. My daughter.

 _My daughter._

"Rin?"

"Yeah?"

"Why're you cryin?"

I look over at Jay, who blinks heavily at me.

"I'm not…" I sniff indignantly, wiping at my cheeks. He smiles as I drop my hands to my lap, huffing.

"I already gave birth, the crazy hormones should be gone." I transfer myself over to one of the cushy chairs next to his bed. We kinda got the VIP treatment since I sure as hell wasn't leaving Jay's side anytime soon and we know the people at Med. Plus it was a stressful birth. To quote Ms. Goodwin, I "need more time to recover". Hence our private room.

"Don't think it works that way." He murmurs, shifting slightly with a wince. I snag one of his hands and try to rub some warmth into it.

"Will said you could leave in a couple days." He sticks out a bottom lip.

"Just me?" I smirk.

"Yup. Just you. The rest of us are gonna keep getting waited on hand and foot." I watch him blink a few times, trying desperately to understand what I said.

"But then I'll be alone-"

"Jay. I'm joking." A pause. I can almost see his confused brain trying to think around the drugs.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"That's not...why you're upset?" Well, he never lost his persistence thats for sure.

"I'm not upset, so much as…really, really happy." He frowns.

"Why?"

Good lord it's like talking to a goldfish. Three second memory.

"Well I gave birth without complications, I'm married to the man I love, who mind you, was shot and hit by a car and is still alive, and we have a beautiful daughter. Which by association, makes me a mom and you a dad."

Another frown.

"Say that again? That last part."

"Which last part? There were like seven parts."

"You mumbled at the end."

"I said we're parents."

"Before that." Rolling my eyes I respond, despite my annoyance.

"We have a daughter." He squints, tilting his head towards me.

"What?"

"We have a daughter!" I snap, possibly a little too loud. I flick my eyes up to glare at him, until I notice hes smiling. _Why_ is he smiling.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

"We have a daughter." I whisper, and the sharp knot of emotions explode in my chest, making my breath catch.

"We have a _daughter."_ I laugh, a little hysterical. The tears start to fall once more and I press my free hand to my face, a small part of my brain telling me to rein it in, to control those emotions.

Huh. Well maybe I don't want to. Maybe, for the first time since that pregnancy test, I'm letting myself really, truly, _feel_.

The pure and simple joy of loving another life, one you brought into this world. The rage and darkness that threatens anything that would dare hurt my little girl. The fear of what comes next for her.

The love for a small, innocent life, that came from two damaged ones.

Jay squeezes my hand and I lean forward, pressing my salty lips to his.

"Thank you." I gasp, still crying. "Thank you for giving me this." He grins just a little bit wider before pressing his lips to mine once more, squeezing my hand that's still in his.

"I love you." He whispers. "Both of you."

If I step just a little bit lighter, and smile just a little bit easier, no one comments.

But everyone notices.

* * *

 **Lets see how many I made cry unintentionally lol.**

 **No for real this was a happy chapter, I hope y'all didn't cry. Also the ending was corny but is supposed to hint to how everyone around them notices how much happier she is.**

 **Since clearly the fandom can figure it out ;)**

 **Long time, no see. Hello ff, I am back...sort of. December/November are my crazy months. As in. Zero time. Like Bubbly88Tay kind of zero time. (as in: eat, sleep, work. And sometimes the first two are neglected.)**

 **Special thanks to Mariedonovan for nudging me to write. That PM was very helpful.**

 **Also, for my War Of Hearts fans...I literally (I counted) have SIXTEEN one shots started. I suppose I should finish one or two.**

 **Review please!**


	7. Cornfield Chase

_**Dedicated to all the families who didn't get a happy ending.**_

The house is still relatively empty, despite having been living in the thing for almost two months. Between raising a newborn and making sure Jay doesn't fall down the stairs, there has been absolutely zero time for decoration of any kind.

The good news? I got to go back to work today.

The bad news? That meant leaving Jay at home with Maddie. Alone. Which left options open for a double disaster. Something could happen to Maddie and Jay not reach her or something could happen to Jay and leave Maddie essentially alone and Jay out of helps reach and-

"Erin!"

"Huh?" My head snaps up, barely seeing Hank over the stacks of case files. I'd managed to finish an entire tire weeks worth of paperwork in about three hours, so I was officially caught up to right before my maternity leave. Some of the cases we had got since then were new, but the sad part of working as a cop in Chicago, was that things weren't always fast. There were thousands of crimes committed each month, murders were a common occurrence and there never seemed to be enough evidence.

Or there was but we just didn't have it. Labs were backed up, evidence lockers were full, and cops got tired of seeing case after case disappear, so they got tired of being thorough. Some of the better cops, the ones who kept at it and didn't lose themselves or get killed, they moved up. Became detectives or commanders.

But you never get ahead of the backlog. Unless you head up to the FBI or other large government agency that has its own lab, you send something to be processed, you get it back three months later. On a good day. Which gives any criminal who's smart plenty of time to get out of Chicago.

Lucky for us, most criminals, aren't that smart. And the ones that are, normally shoot straight up to our number one priority. It's always fun hunting those down.

Those are the cases where our unit really shines. Were what we get to do what we wish we could do with _all_ the cases.

Solve them. In as little time as closure (or some sense of it) to the victims families, and bring a little piece of justice to this city.

At least, that's the intent. But spending all day flipping through folder after too thin folder with pictures of dead kids and husbands and wives all caught up in the business of gangs that they aren't part of, it makes intention look about as nice as the 'idea' of water while you're stranded in the desert.

At the very least, it helped distract my overactive imagination. I only felt guiltier at that concept, because that was like me labeling all these victims as merely a distraction, and therefore unimportant.

I am a qualifiable wreck.

But the clock says five, and Hanks looking at me with amusement on face that mixes with surprise. Probably because I lasted all day without requesting to go home and make sure the house hadn't burned down.

"You... _are_ going to go home at some point right?" I pause.

 _Go home._

"Yeah. Yes. Uh huh, I'm, I'm gonna go right now. Yeah. Okay." My mind kind of shuts down a little at those words. All day today I've been shoving the idea from my mind, yelling at myself to focus, that it wasn't time yet, just text him, see he's fine.

My keys prove a particular problem, as they're not in my jacket like I thought. Voight holds them up with one finger, smirking at my glare.

"Come on kid, I'll drive ya."

The car ride is silent for the time it takes him to pull out of the parking lot, then its all questions. How am I doing, how is Maddie doing, has Jay killed himself on accident yet, etcetera, etcetera. Typical father-in-law stuff.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. As long as you'll let me know when I can have the little bundle over for a day or two." I groan, but smile anyway.

"After the third time she throws up down your back, you'll regret that request." Hank just grins.

"You forget that I had to raise Justin. I guarantee you Maddie is a happier baby than he was."

"Do you _know_ how many shirts I've had to wash? I have to take Jay shopping sometime soon because her puke is like _acid_. It's bleached the color out of half his wardrobe."

There's an incredulous look thrown my way.

"You let Jay hold her? Wow, you really have figured out how to trust him."

I punch him. Hard.

He just laughs again and pulls into our driveway.

"Hey." He catches me before I run out of the car. "Listen to me."

I shut the door. I know the look on his face. Its his serious look that he only uses when he's about to talk to family.

"I know, I uh...made it difficult for you guys, at first. And believe it or not, I _was_ actually looking out for Halstead when I saw him start to fall for you."

"Wha-, okay I was _not_ that bad..." I trail off at his disbelieving look.

"You went through a guy every other week. For almost a year."

I squirm.

"Alright, I so I was a little adventurous."

"Yeah, well, I saw that kid bleeding out for you and you didn't even know it. I didn't want him to be another ' _adventure'._ "

"You didn't want him to be anything."

"Not true."

"That's what it looked like."

"Will you shut up?" He jokes, but the seriousness has returned, despite my best efforts.

"I already had this talk with him. I apologized, because, as I told him early on, I'm not always right. And I was wrong in the way I acted towards him, towards both of you. But I was right when I said he'd be good police, I saw it as he first walked up stairs with Antonio. I knew that if I didn't push him for it - if I didn't give him a reason to want to get better - he wouldn't. Whether he'll admit it or not, he needed the unit when he came on. He still needs it now.

"Accept now he's got you, and he's got that beautiful little girl to look after. And I gotta tell ya, never in my life did I think that I'd have a nervous guy knocking on my door at ten at night, asking to marry my daughter."

I smile softly, just imagining Jay having a nervous breakdown in Will's apartment beforehand, pacing back and forth and just freaking out while Will sat on the counter watching more than amused.

"But I'm damn glad I did. Because I've never…" He stops to compose himself for a second. Despite his demeanor, my old man's a sap, through and through.

"Seeing you...I've proud of you kid. I know I've said it before, but I mean it. I'm so damn proud of what you've done, what you've become. I'm proud of the life you've built. Because who you are, that strength you carry? That wasn't from me. It wasn't from anybody. It's just you. And you've done so much good in this world with it...I couldn't be prouder."

I stare at him for a while, trying to figure out why there aren't any tears coming to my eyes. Normally these conversations are balls of emotions for me, but right now all I came come up with is this insane amount of gratitude.

"Hank I...I don't know how to...thank you. This means a lot."

"I know kiddo. Now go take care of your family."

My mouth is dry. I nod, then scuttle my way out of the car and up the steps.

The house was foreclosed on, and Voight knew a guy or two in the bank. Him and Jay coluded with each other, so I got just about the perfect house: Nice open concept rooms, kitchen on the first floor along with a huge space for a living room, a den of sorts as a finished basement with a room for laundry off of it. The upstairs is carpeted except for the hallway and office space, the large master bedroom at the end of the hall and the two smaller bedrooms having a soft layer of fluffy carpet covering the floors.

The click of my boots echo in the unfurnished rooms, still unpainted and in need of new flooring. We haven't decided between a light blue or a red. One of Jay's many jobs (the downside to being a house husband he says) is to search all different shades of the colors we were interested in and match it with good colors of wood.

After I slip off my boots and relieve my coat pockets of their many belongings, I drop the drab thing into the closet and take my phone with me as I tiptoe upstairs. There's soft light coming from the bedroom, and I nudge open the door open with my sock covered toe.

The tv's sound is down low, and a quick flash of penguins tells me it's one Jay's favorite documentaries. The light changes, throwing different shadows and colors over Halstead's face. I smile softly at the scene.

Glasses crooked, beard grown out, head tilted to the side as it rests limp against the pillow cushioned backboard. Little Maddie is passed out as well, sleeping peacefully with an expression matching her daddy's, splayed on her stomach, lying on Jay's chest.

Sighing with the gentle contentment that settles in my stomach, I adjust pull the blankets over my family, then shut the door and get ready for bed.

 **-That was literally pure fluff with domestic linstead. Like. I didn't know it was possible for me to write that much fluff. BUT i really love the image of Jay with glasses and his beard just like passed out and erin being all maternal and just so cuttteeeeeeee.**

 **Review?**


	8. First Step

Anytime you see a '...' its switching from Erins Point of View to Maddie's.

 ** _Dedicated to everyone who missed this._**

* * *

 **Erin's P.O.V.**

"Erin! ErinErinErinERINNNNNNNNNN!" The overly excited voice grates painfully against my nerves. I am tired and cranky and sore and Jay's all sunshine and roses and I can. not. DEAL WITH IT.

"Oh my GOD WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" I'm fricken cooking pasta for christs sake.

"Get your camera!"

The spoon lands on the floor, sauce going everywhere, but I'm sprinting up the stairs, snatching my phone from the charger and sliding (literally- socked feet on hardwood stairs) down the stairs. Opening the correct app, I move into the living room where an extremely proud Dad is watching Maddie grip the coffee table.

I hit record, and a feeling not unlike one gets when watching their favorite sports team about to go for a game winning score come over me. She looks up when she see me. Her eyes are wide, face shocked at my sudden appearance.

"Come're Mads." Jay, seated on the floor, back against the wall with his legs spread apart, hold up his arms and beckons. Maddie face morphs into something akin to doubt and annoyance (if that's possible) and look at me as if to say "You seein this guy? Hes crazy." Our kid has gotten increasingly talented at facial expression. Especially her 'Seriously?' face. I blame Jay wholeheartedly.

"Go on." I manage, trying desperately not to laugh. The little tot focuses her attention back to Jay and starts to shuffle a little bit, moving her socked feet slightly. She quickly runs out of ground however, seeing as the coffee table ends.

"Come on Maddie." I whisper, more to myself. She's like two feet from Jay.

 _Walkwalkwalkwalkwalk_ \- I chant to myself and then

One step. Then another. And suddenly the little feet are awkwardly moving them selves across the floor…right past Jay...and straight to me.

Little hands cling to my leg as I start wheezing with laughter, my camera catching every bit of Jay's crushed face, even as he slowly dissolves into laughter as well.

My wheezes turn into a giant barks of laughter as I put down my phone, picking up my blond haired girl and planting her on the plushy couch.

"Did...did you see…the look she had?!" Halstead glares at me, my sentence still punctuated by laughter. I've almost snorted once or twice. He catches the little hellion before she can take a dive into the bookshelf.

"So not fair." He grumbles.

"You just got curved by a ten month old!" I cry, bending at the waist and grabbing the couch as my knees go weak. I haven't laughed this hard in so long. My throat hurts I'm so into it.

"I did not!" I slide to the floor giggling and snorting at the pure betrayal in his voice. Only Jay would be so offended by his daughter's first steps.

"Momma!" The cry comes to my left and around the couch, all smiles and giggles until her little legs give out and she lands on her knees. The little bundle does not stop smiling though. She likes to laugh and smile if other people are doing it too, even if she doesn't know why.

"Come'ere bug!" A sharp squeal echoes in the room as I scoop her up,standing while flying her in a tight circle to come to rest on my hip. I smile at her then look at Jay who's still on the floor with his arms crossed.

"Awww...is Daddy pouting?" Another glare, this time accompanied by a mutter.

"What was that?" I exaggerate the question, glancing at Mads who looks between the two of us, obviously trying to understand why she isn't the center of attention any more.

"Nothing!"

"Uh huh. Well. Us _grown ups_ are going to finish making dinner. Pick up your toys when you're done."

* * *

"Bye mom! Bye dad!"

"Bye sweetheart!" The little legs carry her up the bus steps one at a time, one hand holding the railing, the other an Avengers lunch box that she picked out specifically for this purpose. The black doors squeal closed, and as the bus pulls off I can see her planting herself right next to Sophie, already chatting away.

"Not even a hint of nervousness." Jay comments, sounding almost jealous. I nod, still staring after the bus.

"Kindergarten."

"Yeah."

" _Kindergarten_." I turn to Jay, a disgusted look on my face.

"What?"

"We're so old."

…

"Where'd you get that?" I turn towards Alex who sits across from me.

"Found it at the thrift shop. The one next to the awesome book store we went to for Kaylas birthday party."

"Seriously?" Anger and fear bubble in my tummy, and I wait for the jab about going to a thrift shop. Just because other people don't want stuff doesn't mean it's not good. There's a tiny dent in one corner and the inside is not super shiny anymore, but its got iron man and captain America on it and I like it.

"That's so cool! I'm totally asking my mom to take me there. I want a lunch box like that!" The anger disappears and I smile.

"Tell your mom to ask my dad where it is."

"Duh." He turns around to talk to Dustin. Sophie taps my shoulder.

"Your _dad_ took you shopping?!"

"Yup." I smile, satisfied by her awe.

"He's _awesome_."

"Yeah. He is."

* * *

"Daddy?" I jerk my head around, seeing Maddie standing there with the door open, holding onto the handle. Her eyes are wide, staring at Jays thrashing form.

"Maddie go to your room!" I yell, a lot meaner and more harsh than I'd like.

"But-"

" _Maddison_ _NOW_!" I screech, doing my best to hold Jay down as he sobs. The little girl sprints off, probably already crying. My panic and fear returns me to my husband though, a sharp gasp alerting me to his presence in the conscious world.

Eyes are wide, pupils dilated, barely seeing anything, he still gasps air, and the crushing realization of returning to reality does nothing to help him.

"Shh, shh it's okay, I'm okay, Maddie's okay. We're all okay." I speak softly as I pull him towards me, his sobs renewing as he curls into my chest. Something we have in common, if not a horrible notion, is that after the dream is just as bad as during it, and that only close contact can seem to calm us down.

Just a bunch of crazy in the same little pot. The problem is, we have a daughter now. And I know how badly this is going to hurt him, to know that his daughter saw him as anything but strong.

"We're okay." I keep whispering. "We're gonna be okay."

…

I fling myself into my bed, clutching my pillow to my chest and sobbing.

 _What's wrong with him?_

What if he's dying?! Was that a seizure?! We learned about those in health last week, they can be deadly - or - or a sign of something life threatening.

What if that's the last time I see him alive?!

" _Dad_!" I scream into my pillow, still sobbing. This is bad. This is so bad. Mom was crying and she never cries. Dad was crying to. He looked like he was in _so much pain-_

Terror and pain fill me, making my stomach turn to ice and my heart want to break.

My chest heaves for breath and I sob harder.

* * *

"Do you understand what that means?!"

"Yeah Erin, I think I fucking do, seeing as _I was deployed in a god damn war!_ " He roars, anger flooding his voice.

"Exactly! How can you be okay with this if you know what it's like?! She's _your daughter_ -

"You think I don't know that?! You think I want this for her?! I don't! I don't want her to come home fucked up like I did, I don't want to see her fall like everyone else did! I don't want to have to bury my only daughter Erin, but I will _not_ change her!" The roar is something unexpected, but it cuts through my anger and fear, enough to listen to him.

It's quiet, and we breath for a few seconds.

"I don't want her hurt. I don't want you hurt either. But going into the military, serving your country? It's not our choice. It's not anyone's but hers. I cannot tell her, that that thing she feels, that need to protect others and fight for herself and her country is nothing. It's not. It's a part of her just like it was a part of me. She has her reasons. We don't have the right to change that."

"I don't want her hurt." I sniff, tears still flowing down my face. It feels like everything's emptying, like I'm losing her while she's still here, and I can't, I can't lose her.

Jays eyes soften.

"Erin...what you're doing now, is worse. There is nothing about that girl that is wrong or damaged. I don't care if she wants to be a cop or a therapist or a fucking teacher, I'll never stop loving her, no matter what she decides. And if going into the Navy is what she wants to do, then I'm going to support her."

"What if...what if…" I sob. "What if it changes her?" She could come home, and not be her anymore. What if they change her personality, what if she-

"Erin." Jay walks forward, wrapping me in a hug. "She is always going to be your daughter. And let me tell you, she is the last person to let anything change her if she doesn't want it. And she's not going to forget herself either. She'll always be your daughter."

…

Neither of them knew of the teen outside their closed door. Neither of them saw her smile through her slowly drying tears.

* * *

 **So I low key switched to third person for the last two sentences...**

 **Also I have the next chapter of this already written, so it'll be up in a few days...**

 **To my New England fans- BUT THAT CATCH THO!**

 **Review!**


	9. Dreaming Of The Crash

**Shoutout to Bubbly88Tay for the review, it was well appreciated. I know that fluff isn't a lot of people thing, it's not really mine either, and I have a hard time writing it...or at least I thought, because the last couple chapters have been pretty fluffy. Like. Stuffed unicorn fluffy.**

 **BUT NOT NO MORE…..**

...

 _ **Dedicated to all the single Dads, and the kids, and the moms, and the ones that found what family really meant only after part of theirs had been taken from them**_ **.**

* * *

 **Maddie's P.O.V.**

My barefeet slip silently down the stairs, years of sneaking down them on christmas mornings having trained my toes to know where to land. I pad into the kitchen though, making my approaching presence known. Leaning against the entryway I stare into the kitchen, worry and grief mixing in my chest.

The lights are off in the house, only the slight cast from the moon and oven give any sort of definition to the features of the rooms. It's four in the morning, and it's January. There won't be any sun for a while.

He's sitting at the table, one hand pressed against his forehead, the other on the bare table in front of him. His body is tense, and the hand on his forehead isn't to take weight of his neck. It's in pain.

It's been five years since she died. And I've never known him to sleep on this night. It's part of the reason why I don't either.

"Dad." The figure jerks, raising his head and dropping the hand.

"Mads?" I nod. There's a small smile. No warmth. Sometimes I don't know what hurts more today. Remembering her, or watching my daddy crumble without her. Every year, I think he loses just a little bit more of himself. It gets just a little bit harder to smile the next day.

I like to think that in the beginning, he pulled himself together because she'd want him to. That he's strong enough to do that.

I also know that if I wasn't there, if he hadn't had me to take care of and help, he would never have gotten this far.

"You goin into work?" I watch his thumb slide over what he holds in his hand, smoothing the already shinning surface. There's a furrowed brow, and a hard swallow.

"Yeah." He whispers at first, clearing his throat and shifting afterwards in a movement where I can literally see him pull himself up and push the grief back down. "Yeah I think I'm going to. She'd uh...she'd want me to stop moping around."

The moonlight glints off the badge in his hand as he shifts it.

"I think today...most people wouldn't call it 'moping'."

"She wasn't-"

"-most people. I know, I met her once or twice." His jaw clenches, and I know I hit a sore spot. Like I do every year I try to help him.

One thing I did not inherit from my dad was his way with words. Instead, I got my mom's nack for perpetually screwing things over when I don't think about what I say.

That said, my dads taught me a lot, and now I'm almost as good as him when it comes to profiling. I am good with words- after my fifth fight in school, he sat me down and we literally had sessions every wednesday. Two hours of sitting at the table and going over language interpretation and body language.

'The proper use of sarcasm by Jay Halstead', my mom used to call it. I'm good with words now.

Just not with him. Never with him, because my dad's seen so much and had to push through so much loss and grief that I always feel so out of my depth talking to him, like nothing I do will get through to him. And I want to get through to him.

I pull out the seat opposite of him, sitting down and reaching out to cup the hand holding the silver shield.

It's hers. He actually never wears his on this day. And when its not with him, its with me. I don't take it to campus though, I never dared to take that piece of her away from him for long. I wear her dog tags instead, right next to mine on the same chain.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

"I know." He says back in the same broken, hushed voice. I look at him, see the lines of stress on his face that mingle with the laughter marks around his eyes, see the slightly grey hair mixing with brown.

"We can do this." I force my voice to be stronger, watching as he looks up at me. There's a pause.

"Together." I add, desperate for him to hear me. He won't though. He never does. He's always distant today, like he's looking far away and can't focus on whats close to him.

"Sure Mads." And there's that same damn little smile, the one that cuts his face and looks like pure pain and holds none of the warmth I know it can. It pisses me off to no extent.

Not because of me. Not because I lost a mother too. Not because she left. No none of this was voluntary, and I made peace with what I felt towards her leaving.

It pisses me off, because I know how hard he tries to pull himself up, to go past this. I know how much it eats him that he couldn't help her, that he wasn't even _close_. I know that he knows that Mom wouldn't want him to be like this, and I know that's how he keeps going. I know that part of him had healed itself, that he knows he'll see her again, and that he sees her all the time in me.

We clashed a lot, me and her, but I think it was because I was so much like her. I had dads black hair and her waves, his sarcasm and smarts, and her sharp yet smooth face that clashed with a sharper jaw. I looked like her, talked like my dad. I had her attitude, his brain to back it up.

I was always closer to him. But that didn't mean I didn't love her. I did. I did so much it hurts sometimes to think about it. When we lost her it was like getting an arm chopped off. Suddenly there was this vitally important thing, this thing that I took for granted, that wasn't there anymore.

I miss her snappiness. Her protectiveness. Her sound effects.

Fuck, I missed her _spaghetti_.

Honestly the best spaghetti in Chicago. Easily. She made it for all of Fifty one once, like ten years ago and they still ask me about it everytime I go over there.

I know how much I miss her. I know I loved her and I still love the memory of her. But I've gotten to a point where I can think of her, want to cry, but still want to smile. I've learned to work around my missing limb, and smile at the good times I had with it.

Losing my mom ripped my Dad's heart out. Not even a question. For the first month he never left the house. I asked him why, when I still angry, why he got be the one to drift around the house, why he got to be the one who ignored life to grieve. He was a father damn it. He didn't get to do this.

I can see now, how utterly harmful that was.

He shut down after that, and dealt with it away from me. He was the perfect dad, helping me with school, with applications and projects and was still a shoulder to cry on. Always there for me.

He was the perfect Dad. But he also was the broken husband.

It's really hard to stay angry when you can hear your dad sobbing behind a closed door in the middle of the night, and know he's not crying because he wants to, and that he waited till you went to bed and was supposed to be asleep so you wouldn't hear it. And that he's crying behind the bathroom door so you won't wake, and he's in the bathroom because he was literally throwing up from sobs and the grief.

"Dad." He's across the kitchen now, and the warning in my voice that's so much like his halts his little escape. He leans against the counter, head down. I stand, walking to meet him, halting in front of him with arms crossed. He won't look at me, even as I shake my head.

"Don't do this." I whisper.

"Don't do what?!"

"Don't shut me out! Damn it, I know I sound just like her and I know I look like her but I'm not Mom! I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere. So you better not be either."

It's quiet in the room, save for our two beating hearts.

"Please." I whisper. "Please keep trying." I don't have to elaborate on what, or why. He's fully aware of the reasons.

There's a sharp nod, and then it seems like he can breath again and so can I. My arms wrap around him, and his around me.

"Alright Special K." He murmurs, making me smirk at the old nickname. "I'll keep trying."

There's a lump in my throat and a pressure behind my eyes.

"I love you, you know?" I step back, sniffing and still keeping my hands on his arms. He nods, concern replacing the pain on his face. I blink hard, and then again, and then the lump becomes painful in my throat as tears of pain are dripping down my face. Next thing I know I'm pressing my face into his shoulder, back into a hug that I'm too short to properly engage.

"Maddie K." He whispers, squeezing me a little harder than normal and the love that I hear in his voice just makes me cry harder, because I know he does this, he loves me, and that if he were to leave me too, I couldn't do it. He's my dad, and I love him too.

"I miss her." I choke, unable to sniff due to the suddenly stuffy nose that comes with sobbing..

"I know sweet heart."

 _It hurts dad, it hurts so bad. I miss her but I miss you too, and I don't want to see you get hurt more._

It's what I should say. It's what I want to.

But I can't.

So I hug him a little harder and he rocks me little, and says 'I love you' back.

* * *

 **This was completely unexpected and I cried a lot while writing it. Which is definitely hormones. (At least that's what I'm going to tell myself, not that I was thinking of my own dad while writing it.)**

 **Review!**


	10. Day 1

**To the guest who reviewed** _ **\- I feel honored to hear you story. I don't know you, but I hope you are okay. And I hope you know how much your strength has inspired others. Keep on fighting, because your family needs you.**_

 _ **Dedicated to everyone. Because we've all felt pain, and we've all been through hardships. The trick is realizing that these tragedies don't define us. How we deal with the pain, tells us who we are.**_

* * *

 **Jay's P.O.V.**

"Are you sure you don't want him in here?"

" _I swear to god if I see that asshole who got me knocked up I'm going to cut off his dick and shove it so far up his ass it'll feel like he's deep throating it!"_

The nurse wisely shies away, moving back towards the end of the bed. Her hand crushes mine, but after Erin I'm ready for it. The contraction wanes, and she flops back on the bed.

"You know, in all fairness, you did agree with him to try and have a kid."

"You want to loose your dick too?!" She hisses.

"Not particularly, I'm just saying."

"You are a male and therefor your opinion on this matter has absolutely no- _ah!"_ The yell comes with another squeeze, and then shes screaming and for a couple seconds I get scared something's wrong, then I hear Manning yelling that she can see the head. I relax, knowing this part is the most painful for most mothers...but then pushing a baby out of a place that is most certainly not meant to hold something that wide in it for any amount of time is painful.

"Another push Maddie, you're doing so well!" Another contraction, another squeeze, another scream. I suppress my smirk, knowing full well that if Maddie sees it I'm getting thrown out of the room. It's just, the thought of Alex most definitely having a freakout right now is hilarious. For all his quiet talk that he wanted to be in here and he was so excited and so not nervous (he really wasn't when he talked about it, but I knew the second Maddie's water broke, he was going to be incoherent) he's definitely pacing outside right now having a miniature panic attack.

What makes it even better is that he's a retired Navy Seal, so this is just perfect.

It's a sense of deja vu unlike any other when she calls out that it's a girl. Maddie flops back on the bed, gasping and crying with relief and happiness. The little bundle cries loudly as they clean it, then calms once wrapped in a blanket and given to her mother. Maddison immediately starts crying harder, but holds the tiny baby close, to exhausted and to emotionally overwhelmed for words.

I slip out behind the medical team, pulling off my gloves as I exit.

He's on me before I can pull off my mask.

"Is she alright? What happened? Is the baby okay? Is it over? Nothing's wrong is it? Do I need to-"

"Alex!" I grab his shoulders, forcing his eyes on me. A small part wonders if this would have been me and Voight had things been different when Maddie was born.

"Calm down. Everything fine. But if you go in there freaking out, she's going to punch you in the nuts." The panicked eyes blink, then his breath leaves him in a rush.

"Right. Right. Okay. They're okay." He mutters, turning away for a couple seconds to breath.

"But-"

"A girl. Eight pounds, six ounces." A goofy smile spreads across his face and then he brushes right past me, just about knocking over Nat on the way out. She just grins and shuts the door.

"Just like you."

"Was not!" I scoff.

"No, you're right, she was still giving birth and you were bleeding all over the place. But you still ran people over to get to her."

"Shut up." I mutter. She sighs.

"We're so old now." I laugh.

"Hey, wine gets better with age. So does scotch."

"You hitting on my wife again?" A third voice suddenly pops into the conversation. I cuff Will over the shoulder.

"Well maybe if she weren't so damn beautiful…" Natalie raises an eyebrow at me, not amused.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Sargent Halstead."

"Well it got me a wife, a daughter and a granddaughter so I mean _clearly_ it works for some people." Will just laughs, then starts talking medical gibberish to Manning. I say a parting word as they leave, then seat myself in one of the tough chairs outside her room.

And I remember. How this whole thing, seemed to come full circle.

The wedding was a beautiful one. Way better than mine and Erin's, but that's because she 'refused to spend the gazillion dollars just to have nicely arranged flowers at a unnecessary ceremony'.

Ha. Yeah right. Like she didn't know that everyone at Fifty one, Med, and some of our friends from the DA weren't going to make it the best night ever. She let me plan it, because Lindsay never did well with stress and commitment and really I knew she was freaking out about just the idea of putting a ring on her finger so I let her forget about it and she worked right up to the day of our wedding.

I'm not kidding. She had Platt and Burgess help her into her dress. In the rollup of the precinct.

Meanwhile I'm at the venue, having a panic attack because okay, fuck, I was so totally nervous all of a sudden and Will decided it would be a good idea to jump out from behind the walls and scare me.

Anyway. The old wooden church that we got married in, because it was simple and pretty and fit just the right amount of people and the pastor from my church that I went to as a kid could do it there, burned down in an unfortunate fire the same day she died.

Ignoring how creepy both Maddie and I found this, she, for the longest time, had wanted to get married there.

The new place, was probably better than she imagined. It's big, and the place was packed. The church is stone on the outside, but on the inside huge beams of dark wood are visible traversing from one end of the ceiling to the other. The open beams are low, and somebody got the smart idea to wrap strands of white christmas lights around them, making the whole place glow with warmth.

White and pink roses are wound with silver birch twigs and small bits of dark evergreen that are placed in the center of each table. Somebody cut branches from (or just cut down the whole tree) a birch, and took the largest of them to the altar, where they were strategically placed and wound together to form a sort of canopy over the couple.

Her dress wasn't strapless, because of and I quote 'girl issues' that I clearly never have and never will understand. The thing had the look of one though, white material snug to cover her chest, the rest of her upper body clad in a see through patterned lace that ran down to her wrists. A silver ribbon tied around her waist, and then the white poofed out slightly and ran to the floor. No trailing fabric, no extravagant hair, no ten pounds of make up.

Maddie, like her mother, wanted to say I do then go right to the reception.

Still. It was beautiful. And amusing, hearing my little girl fall in love with a dress then screech for the next half hour at the price.

Maddie graduated from the Naval Academy, spent two years on a ship as a Lieutenant in charge of the weapons control room on the John Paul Jones, a renowned destroyer. She proudly helped America bring home the RIMPAC world cup both of those years and then in the exercises performed there and on normal missions, she came home with several awards, including Service with Distinction. Just like her old man.

She came home, as bright and bubbly as ever, just better with sneaking around and using a gun.

Never really saw action. Didn't come home with crippling PTSD. No, she came home, got an apartment, decorated and binged her tv shows for two days, before the inevitable happened.

" _Hey dad don't freak out but I'm joining the police academy. Love you byeeeee!"_

A truly wonderful message to listen too at the end of a day where you just watched a police officer die in front of you.

But she made it through the academy, made it with distinction, so much that I had to fight to get her pulled into Intelligence. She wanted it, I made sure that she understand she could have any team she wanted and she still choose us. General crime was pulling for her, Gangs, the UC taskforce, hell, even Vice was asking. They didn't want us on the table at all, because I was her dad, but I pulled Voight out of retirement for a solid hour and poof, suddenly she was allowed.

She worked with us, being basically my partner as I trained her to look for the clues in Chicago's streets, how to get the city to spill her secrets. Adam and Atwater were senior detectives now, as was Burgess. After a couple years (before Voight left) we managed to get Julie Tay back to the twenty first district, and she came up right when Maddie was deployed.

So. It was a normal day, Ruzek at what used to be Alvins desk, Atwater at Antonio's, Burgess at what was once Jules, Julie at mine, Maddie at Erins.

I'm leaning against the doorway to my office talking to Julie, Atwater flinging a paper ball at Ruzek when the door buzzes in the stairway. I'm already thinking critical of the new guy, since he'll be Maddie's partner and Platt walks him up. He stops in front of us while she introduces him and I can see it.

The way he stands, showing his ground in Military stance, the way he has his hands in his jean pockets to seem casual but really he's nervous, because he knows even though he was in Afghanistan this is something much different, much harder to adapt to for him. I see it in the second his eyes land on Maddie, the spark that alights and then is quickly hidden. I see it in the way she looks at him, bored and still annoyed that she actually has to have an official partner. I see that she's trying hard to find something not to like about him, so she can complain to me and maybe have him transfered.

The guys all nod hello's and Julie glances at me before murmuring something about moving back to her old desk, the one across from Ruzek. I make a joke, she laugh back and then Atwater catches something and we all grab our jackets.

We're all moving and he looks lost, but open, like he's trying his best to adsorb as much information about how to act and what to say just by their movements.

I see it in everything he does, and everything we do.

I see my first day, almost down to a T, and I know by the snarky comment Maddie gives him that he easily retorts, that this is exactly how me and Erin started, exactly how Intelligence really became the family it is. I know that she'll fall for him, and he's already falling for her. I don't know if they'll work, but I know there's a good chance it will.

I know, because I did it. And it's finally come full circle.

 _ **fin.**_


End file.
